Poisons
by hypata
Summary: Harry and Draco remember Severus. Post 7th book.


Title: Poisons

Author: Jillian Knight (Hypata)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: Harry and Draco remember Severus. Post 7th book.

* * *

Chapter 1

"Poisoners do their deadly work in secret. The evidence in poisoning cases is nearly always circumstantial. In this case it is more direct than usual. You must remember that poisoning is always concealed and deliberate. It is a crime that is not done in the moment of passion, or on an impulse. It is a crime that must be planned."

Justice William Windeyer, Central Criminal Court, Sydney,

Summing up in the Dean case, April 6, 1895

* * *

Cleopatra never looked so beautiful. Her body was still limp and warm; her black hair cascaded around her body like wings; and the little adder nestled between her pale breasts gleamed. Thousands of men had died in battle before she brought out the serpent.

"Potter." Harry looked over at the voice. _Malfoy. _His mind bit out, but his head nodded to the blond at the doorway.

"You found my favorite painting. Such a marvelous legend." Harry had to agree with the Slytherin. Poisoning was so…

"…deliberate and secretive. I find the drama alone makes the act memorable." Harry jostled at Draco's musing—_his_ thought. The Death Eater and he _agreed_ on something. Wand in his holster, Harry tapped his thighs in agitation.

Malfoy fixed a stare on him. "What brings you to my ancestral home, Father is dead now and Mother lives like a ghost. My home has been raided to the point that even Light-magic artifacts have been seized. I can't even keep a Remembrall on my desk without an Auror claiming that the red magic in it is virgin's blood."

Harry snorted. "Probably wondering how you pander with your girlfriend."

"My Courted, Potter. Astoria is a fine witch, and will be spoken like the proper woman she is." Malfoy huffed and smoothed his robes. "If you are ever to make a place for yourself in Pureblood society, start by at least getting the _vocabulary_ correct." Things had changed between Malfoy and himself, last year's events still seared through everyone's minds. The "Man"-Who-Lived now was considered, at least by the _Prophet_, to be the new scion of the Light and rumored to be immortal. Malfoy's fast deflection and Dumbledore's pensieve had saved another Slytherin. Even Snape received a special service award. Speaking of Snape, Harry turned at the reason why he was at Malfoy's door.

"They're pushing for Snape to have an memorial at Hogwarts alongside Dumbledore." Harry said turning towards the ex-Death Eater and staring him in the eye. Snape's death had become bittersweet to Harry—something he never truly spoke to Ginny or anyone else about. "They" were a few less-prominent Slytherin families too small to matter in the War and too large to ignore now.

What little color in Malfoy's cheeks paled and he motioned for Harry to follow him to the couchs in the sitting room. The blonde procured a bottle of Ogden's and poured himself and his guest an exceedingly generous portion after he took a shot of it on his own.

"What do you want then, Potter." Malfoy said tiredly. Harry almost had a rush of a sympathy headache to go with Malfoy's forming one.

"I'm going to throw my money and fame behind it, Malfoy. I expect you to appeal to the Purebloods to at least give the Prince bloodline a final goodbye." Malfoy nodded at Harry's words and raised his fingers to his temple.

"My Godfather…" Harry winced, as Malfoy ignored him and continued, "gave us that painting of Cleopatra because I was so enamored with her exhibit in Egypt. I was about eight at the time, and my Father and Severus had taken me to Egypt on some potion-ingredient dealing trip. My Father had brokered my Godfather's dealings with the Arabic wizards in the past." Malfoy paused and stared at the painting, remembering happier times when Voldemort had been assumed dead and the world safe.

"Snape would've loved Cleopatra, I think." Harry mumbled, deliberately ignoring the fact that the man was unabashedly in love till his death with his mother. Malfoy hummed in agreement.

"It's odd." Malfoy whispered, taking a harsh mouthful of his drink. "Poisoners are the takers of lives, but poisons cleverly applied are the key to all the major breakthroughs of medicine. Poisoners today generally act for the benefit of humanity." Malfoy flushed, whether from the alcohol or his embarrassment. Harry assumed probably both. "I'm not saying what he did benefited Dumbledore…" He trailed off.

The silence between the two stirred with their magic in the room. Harry had known for a while that Malfoy could never be able to kill, he was not his father's son. "I wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort without exactly what had happened." Malfoy stared sharply at Harry, but did not say anything.

After all, everything that had been said had already been done. Snape had been a poison to Harry, a poison that had ultimately saved him and Malfoy in the end.


End file.
